Chapter 1425: The Dragon Ambassador’s Holiday (Not Really)

The Dawn of the Mortal World glided majestically across the sky, its vast shadow casting entire city blocks into twilight. Then, as if on cue, streetlights and decorative lamps flickered on, like a trail of moving stars following the fortress’s slow advance. The city below brightened, countless beams of light shooting up from rooftops to illuminate the flying fortress’s armored hull and anti-gravity engines.

A wave of awe and tension melted into overwhelming pride and joy. Nothing could make the citizens of Cecil feel more united with their strength and glory than this moment. The previous deployment had been rushed and secretive; this was the Dawn of the Mortal World’s first official appearance before the public. Its presence elevated the atmosphere of Victory Day to a fever pitch.

Cheers and gasps erupted like thunder. Pea grabbed Patty’s hand, both of them shouting excitedly as they wandered the festive streets. Not far away, atop another tall building, Melita Pernia watched the fortress silently. She saw the lower structure of the Dawn of the Mortal World slowly passing overhead, close enough to almost touch. Kilometer after kilometer of alloy framework and shield arrays stretched out in perfect order. The faint glow of particles from the anti-gravity engines drifted down like flickering runes among the stars. The sheer scale was almost suffocating—but for a dragon, it was simply a breathtaking sight.

Gradually, the fortress soared above the city center, its massive silhouette climbing higher toward the clouds. Sunlight returned, swiftly washing away the artificial dusk. The streetlights dimmed, leaving only the still-excited crowds lingering on main roads and plazas. People buzzed with excitement, discussing the miraculous flying fortress, the empire’s might, and the grand new era of expansion about to begin.

But the Victory Day celebrations were far from over.

Melita withdrew her gaze from the fortress and bent down to pat the heads of two young hatchlings trailing her. The little dragons squealed happily, flapping their wings and craning their necks toward the retreating flying city. Clearly, such a colossal airborne marvel was just as thrilling to newborn dragons as it was to humans.

“Nothleta,” Melita’s friend, spoke from beside her, “seeing it from this angle really is stunning. I think I understand why the people in this city are so moved right now. I’d be excited too.”

“Right?” Melita smiled, juggling the two hatchlings who kept nudging her as they chatted. “I told you we had to find a good vantage point. Victory Day always has some spectacular sights—Gawain Cecil never disappoints when it comes to grand displays. Especially after this special war, he needs a strong ‘signal’ to completely erase the lingering tension and ignite public enthusiasm.”

“I can feel it too,” Nothleta said, shaking her head with a smile as she grabbed a skewer of meat from a nearby rack. She exhaled a small jet of flame to roast it carefully before handing it over. “If people here were still uneasy about ancient relics like the Sentinels, or nervous about unknown dangers in the world, that tension is gone now. They believe the empire is strong enough to face any crisis—whether it’s conspiratorial cultists or out-of-control ancient ‘evil spirits.’ Here, have a skewer.”

“Thanks,” Melita said, taking the meat and feeding a couple of pieces to the hatchlings before biting into her own. “This war was terrifying—whether it was the creeping plague, the Sentinels, or the final ‘Reverse Tide’—these are horrors that leave deep-rooted fear even after death. The government can’t cover up everything; people know there are extraordinary threats out there, and who knows when the next one will come. That’s why they need Victory Day—a powerful sign to reassure them they’re protected by a reliable force.”

“Exactly. And the Dawn of the Mortal World sends another message: this power comes from their own hands. A flying fortress built by human effort is better than any uncontrollable force.”

“Other nations have similar celebrations. They might not have the Dawn of the Mortal World, but they find other ways to inspire hope, dispel war fears, foster unity, boost the economy, and prepare for the ‘Third Great Expansion.’ Most importantly, they use this chance to weaken the influence of ‘gods’ in society. If humanity can solve apocalyptic crises on its own, then the need for ‘divine saviors’ fades away…”

“Wow, your grilling skills have really improved! I remember you used to just torch the meat into charcoal with one breath.”

“I learned from those two dragonborn barbecue vendors in the East District,” Nothleta said proudly, sprinkling spices on the remaining skewers. “Turns out I have a knack for this!”

“Sounds perfect,” Melita sighed contentedly, finishing her meat and chewing on the skewer before downing a few hearty gulps of frost potion. She burped and looked toward the street. “Spending a whole day like this during the festival—eating barbecue, drinking potions, enjoying the cool breeze and the view—there’s nothing more relaxing in the world.”

“Sometimes you just need to unwind,” Nothleta smiled, carefully roasting another piece of marinated meat with her breath. But just then, a faint click caught their attention.

Melita immediately turned toward the sound. The rooftop door swung open abruptly, and two security officers burst out, panting heavily. They had clearly climbed all the way up the stairs. The older one’s eyes widened as he spotted the racks and piles of fresh meat beside Melita and Nothleta.

“We received reports—someone’s grilling with open flames on the rooftop. That’d be you two, right?”

The hatchlings behind Melita startled and began squawking loudly. Melita herself was taken aback—she hadn’t expected this—but quickly recovered, pointing at the raw meat beside Nothleta.

“We’re not grilling anything. We don’t even have a fire!”

The officers blinked, confused by the presence of two baby dragons. Catching two female dragons with hatchlings on duty was probably a first for them. The younger officer looked overwhelmed, glancing around and seeing no signs of fire.

“So… what are you doing then?”

“Is it illegal to just brush sauce on raw meat?” Melita said, matter-of-factly.

The two inexperienced officers exchanged awkward looks.

At that moment, Nothleta hiccupped suddenly, a small flame flickering from the silver dragon’s mouth and scattering sparks into the air.

The officers smiled, the tension instantly dissolving into awkwardness.

“Sorry,” Nothleta apologized to Melita, “I drank a bit too much and couldn’t hold it in…”

…

“So that’s why the two Talrond ambassadors got caught by city inspectors for open-air grilling on Victory Day?”

In the upper study of Cecil Palace, Gawain sat behind his desk, wearing an unusually strange expression as he looked at the embarrassed Melita Pernia standing before him. He felt a twitch in his temple.

At the same time, a bizarre thought crossed his mind: it had only been a month since the sirens joined the alliance. Surely the mental corruption from those deep-sea trickster gods couldn’t have spread this fast?

Melita, of course, had no idea what was racing through Gawain’s mind. She was simply curious and asked, “What’s a city inspector?”

“No need to worry,” Amber, standing by the desk, waved dismissively before Gawain could answer. “He sometimes comes up with weird words that don’t really relate to anything. If you’re interested, I can recommend a book on the subject…”

“Don’t say anything and no one will think you’re mute,” Gawain shot Amber a glare, then turned back to the dragon ambassador with a sigh. “I remember when we first met, you weren’t like this. Why is everyone suddenly acting up…”

“Well, it was just a small accident. Everyone needs to relax sometimes, and unexpected things happen…” Melita said, embarrassed. “Besides, I heard the ambassador from the Holy Dragon Principality got a parking ticket the first time she came to Cecil.”

“Can you really compare yourself to her? Asralena didn’t even know where the parking lot was when she first arrived, and you’ve lived here for years,” Gawain glanced at the blue dragon lady but didn’t intend to dwell on the incident. He quickly changed the subject. “Anyway, I called you here for something important.”

At the mention of “important,” Melita’s previously relaxed expression turned serious. “Please go ahead.”

For a moment, it was as if the composed and elegant agent of the Mithril Treasury had returned before Gawain. Unfortunately, after hearing about the dragon ambassadors getting caught grilling on the rooftop, he found it hard to reconcile that image with the blue dragon lady in front of him.

“It’s about technology. We have a plan to rebuild the communication channels between Talrond and the Loren continent, as well as reconstruct Talrond’s internal network,” Gawain said, tapping the armrest of his chair. “The details will come when Rebecca arrives…”

No sooner had he finished speaking than hurried footsteps sounded outside the study. The heavy oak door slammed open, and Rebecca burst in, breathless and flustered.

“I’m here! I’m here! Ancestor, I’m here!”

Listening to the clumsy way she opened the door, Gawain briefly wondered if she’d just headbutted it open…

“Perfect timing,” Gawain shook off the strange thoughts swirling in his mind and looked up at his N+1 great-great-granddaughter. “Why don’t you explain your plan to Melita?”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Rebecca said, only now noticing Melita’s presence in the room. She quickly closed the door behind her and greeted the blue dragon politely. “Good afternoon, Miss Melita—have you eaten yet?”

“…I just got out of the Public Security Office because of some food-related trouble,” Melita’s mouth twitched slightly, but she maintained a composed demeanor as she returned Rebecca’s greeting. This unusual way of saying hello was clearly something she’d picked up from her ancestor who had risen from the grave. Gawain and those around him all favored this kind of greeting. “I heard you have a plan to build a communication channel between Talrond and Loren?”

Between the continent of Talrond and Loren lay a vast, endless sea. Back when the dragon civilization thrived, Talrond’s high-powered planetary communication system allowed dragons to contact their homeland from any corner of the planet. But after Omega’s departure and the total destruction of Talrond’s infrastructure, the sea—once seen by dragons as a mere “puddle”—had become a real barrier. The old communication system collapsed, and the human magic network devices currently in use struggled to send signals across the distant ocean. This directly led to the awkward situation where communication between Talrond and Loren was difficult.

In this regard, the dragons, who had long since joined the Alliance, were even more embarrassed than the newly allied sea elves. Although the sea elves’ ships were riddled with malfunctions, they could still communicate with their mothership in the ocean from anywhere on the planet thanks to Antavien’s standard antennas and their innate “psychic echo” ability. As a result, even though Antavien was extremely far from Loren, communication between the sea elves and the Alliance was easier than between Talrond and Loren, which were much closer.

Not to mention Talrond itself was in a complicated state—more than half the continent remained in ruins, and the complex energy environment cut off communications in many areas. Although, with the Alliance’s help, the dragons had managed to restore communication in several coastal cities and along key shorelines, the situation in the continent’s interior remained bleak.

Under these dire circumstances, the dragons had even been forced back to relying on messengers for long-distance communication. The delay between Talrond and the Alliance could stretch to one or two days—thanks only to the dragons’ fast flight speeds.

Rebuilding Talrond’s communication network and restoring contact between Talrond and Loren was an urgent problem. Gawain had been pushing this issue long before the Wasteland War broke out, and technicians had devised several plans. But the sudden outbreak of war disrupted everything, forcing the project to be shelved—until now.

“In fact, the war hasn’t been all bad for the ‘Communication Reconstruction Plan,’” Rebecca said, slamming the thick dossier she was holding onto the table with a bang. Wiping the sweat from her brow, she smiled. “Although the original plan was interrupted, the war gave us a chance to test some new ideas and technologies. The solution we’ve found might even be better than the pre-war proposals…”

As she spoke, she pulled a document from the heavy stack and laid it before Gawain and Melita.

“For example, our experience building an aerial communication network in the Ogure tribal nation seems well-suited to Talrond’s complex situation… Miss Melita, would you consider leasing a few Gorgon signal stations?”

(End of chapter)